


Mango Scented Denim

by gayteez (floralmins)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, hints of future relationship/romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 23:49:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19261669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralmins/pseuds/gayteez
Summary: Who would have thought that talking to a handsome, red-headed stranger at a bus stop after a long day of work was all you needed to find the motivation to completely turn your life around?





	Mango Scented Denim

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is just a little drabble I wrote because Hongjoong has me feeling some type of way and I feel like he's genuinely a nice enough guy to something like this. Hope you enjoy!

Images of the Han River float through your mind, setting you at ease; you can practically feel the breeze flitting across your face if you try hard enough. The hope that you would get to go on a nice walk has been the only thing getting you through what has been an absolutely terrible day. The morning started with the bus you normally take driving over a giant pothole causing you to spill hot coffee everywhere and then, once you got into a groove at work, your computer glitched and you lost the article you were writing. When you finally thought you had a chance at freedom and were about to clock out, your boss gave you a new project to work on which led to you being stuck at work for hours longer than you had originally anticipated.

Despite everything, though, you had your walk to look forward to. Nature has always had a somewhat cleansing effect on you—something about being outside and enjoying the fresh air seems to strip all of your stress away. When you checked the weather channel this morning, the meteorologist reported that today would be partly cloudy and warm. So, when you walk out of the building and into the freezing rain, you can't help but wonder if God has some sort of personal vendetta against you. What a perfectly horrid little cherry on top of a steaming hot mess. Goodbye, Han River.

By the time you make it to the bus stop down the road, you're completely soaked from head to toe—holding your purse over your head did little to nothing to help protect you from the onslaught of water. When you make eye contact with a cute boy sporting bright red hair, you have to fight the initial instinct you have to sprint in the opposite direction. You can only assume you look like a drowned rat and that is not the first impression you would like to have on an attractive stranger. If your day had gone better, maybe you would have tried to strike up a conversation and flirt a little. At this point, however, you don't even have it in you to try. So, since you're already drenched, you sit down on the wet bus stop bench and just accept that you're probably going to get a cold as a lasting reminder of this cursed day.

Things would have likely been bearable if the frigid night air didn't begin to get to you. Since you were no longer being active, a chill began to crawl down your spine and you found yourself shivering with every blow of the wind. It doesn't help that you catch the cute boy looking at you every once in a while out of the corner of your eye and you can only imagine what he thinks of you, what with you looking as pathetic as you do. You close your eyes and curse under your breath. Too caught up in your own self-pity, you don't hear the footsteps headed straight towards you.

"Um, here." You open your eyes and lift your head to see the red-headed man you made eye contact with earlier shyly holding out his jacket for you to take. "I know we don't know each other but I'd feel horrible if I just let you keep shivering."

For a second, the thought crosses your mind that he must be the guardian angel sent to save you from the hellish day you've had. But, as far as you can tell, he has no wings and no halo—just the jacket he's offering and the old band shirt he's wearing that is slowly beginning to get soaked with raindrops.

You shake your head, smiling apologetically. "I really appreciate the offer but I couldn't possibly take your jacket from you and let you get sick or something. It's my own fault for not——"

He drapes his coat on top of you and pulls it securely around your shoulders before you can continue. "It's alright, I swear—just take it. It was heartbreaking just standing over there and watching you shiver.”

You look him in the eyes for any sign of hesitation but find none. So, you give in. "Alright then—thank you so much. You're really sweet."

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome.” He laughs cutely and, though it’s hard to tell under the dim yellow lighting of the streetlamp, you think he’s blushing. “Plus, what kind of man would I be if I did nothing? My mother would kill me otherwise."

You loop your arms through the sleeves of his jacket with a laugh as he takes a seat next to you. “Fair enough. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

"I'm Hongjoong."

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence and you take a second to adjust, hugging the jacket closer to your body. You bury your face in the denim, the smell of mangos immediately invading your senses and the warmth lingering inside the coat beginning to seep into your skin. It’s almost like he’s hugging you—it's comforting. You blush at the thought.

“So,” you drawl, trying to reinitiate conversation. “Were you stuck with the late shift like me, or…?”

“No, I was actually working on music.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “You’re a musician?”

He nods. By the way his eyes light up, you can tell it’s something he’s really passionate about. “Yeah! I’m training to be an idol but I also really like writing and producing.”

“That’s really cool! Is your company near here or something?”

“Yeah, a few blocks away. It’s relatively unheard of, though, and pretty small—you’ve probably never noticed it. I’m the only trainee right now, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I don’t mean to overstep but isn’t that kind of worrying? If I was in your position I feel like I would be pretty nervous.”

At this point, the rain has begun to die down and he takes the opportunity to look up at the stars, chest rising as he takes a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m scared out of my mind, honestly. I don’t know when or if I’ll debut, but the risk is worth it. Music is all I care about.” Then, as if snapping out a trance, he laughs and shakes his head. “You must think it’s stupid to put so much into something so uncertain.”

“No.” You can tell your answer surprises him. “No, I actually don’t think it’s stupid at all. I think the fact that you’re willing to chase your dream is incredibly brave and I really admire your passion. I wish I had that.”

You frown, thinking of years past. You were once like him—someone with drive and with passion. Until now, you hadn't even realized that was something you missed.

He tilts his head, staring at you inquisitively. His dark, enchanting eyes lock with your own and you can't help but think it looks like he's searching for something. It's almost as if he's trying to make sense of your very soul. “Do you have a dream? Or maybe you're already living it.” His voice is inviting—it makes you want to trust him and be honest with someone for once.

You laugh bitterly. “I wish. But, no, I'm stuck with being a reporter. I thought it was something I could enjoy but it ended up just being exhausting." You pause for a moment before adding, "I did have a dream once, though.”

He leans closer, giving you his full attention. “What was it, if you don't mind me asking?”

“I wanted to be a dancer.” You laugh—it feels so strange to finally say that aloud. "You know, I've actually never told anyone that before."

Hongjoong smiles at that, shining so brightly that you have to fight the impulse to look away. "Wow, I'm honored. Why did you give up, though? I bet you're very talented."

You stare at him for a moment, at a loss for words. You know nothing about one another yet here he is, treating you like a close friend he's desperate to know everything about. He makes you feel as if you're being seen when you have felt invisible for so long.

“Well... my dad got sick and I needed to make money to take care of him. So, I decided to do something that was more secure."

Hongjoong frowns. “Ah, I get it. I’m sorry about your dad.” He grabs your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. The redness of your cheeks mirrors his own.

“It’s alright," you say. "I was able to pay for his treatments and he’s better now.”

“In that case, what’s stopping you from becoming a dancer now?” His eyes light up once again and he squeezes your hand.

His excitement stuns you for a moment before you say, "Well... Nothing, I guess."

While you were invested in the conversation, you had failed to notice the bus pulling up to the stop until the driver had to beep to get your attention. It wasn't your bus, though, it was Hongjoong's. He waves at the bus driver to let him know he's coming and stands, letting go of your hand. _Odd_ , you think, _how your hand already feels so empty when not being intertwined with his_.

“Well, if my opinion matters at all to you, I think you should chase your dreams, Y/N," he says as he fishes around in his wallet for his bus card. "You should even come to audition for the company I’m at, KQ entertainment.”

His words plant a seed of passion inside of you, a seed you know could grow into a forest with the right nourishment. “You know what? Maybe I will.”

Smiling, he steps on to the bus. “In that case, I hope to see you around.”

“Wait! What about your jacket?” You get up, ready to take it off and hand it to him.

He winks. “Keep it and give it to me when you see me at the company. I’m always there.”

The doors close and the bus drives away, taking your late-night guardian angel away with it. You bite your lip and bury your face into jacket once again, letting the smell of mangos—the smell of Hongjoong—comfort you once again. For the first time in a long time, you feel invigorated. Determined, even. Time to break out your dancing shoes; after all, you have a jacket to return.


End file.
